Needless to say there is a lesson in this story.
I have not written much about my brother James and stories involving him hunting with us, but now that his daughter, Victoria , is in school here; now is a good time.
My brother James was excited that morning when we got up to go hunting, we all were. The temperature had turned very cold, the ground was frozen and best of all the air was totally still. Not a breath of wind, and absolutely perfect for deer hunting. We scrambled into our hunting clothes after coffee and a light breakfast. We did not have much in the way of clothes then, so you put on as much as you could. We all looked like stuffed red snowmen that morning. James struggled and finally was able to put on everything that he had. I watched them leave then headed to my stand.
Dad took them to Thacker Mountain, out west of Oxford. We had some great stands there like the Double-Deer Stand just perfect for a morning like this when the big bucks were sure to hit their scrapes and chase does. Dad was still chasing the Peddler Field Phantom.
They had a new stand that he put James on that morning and the area around it was covered in big buck sign. Dad helped Jamie up the cotton picker spindle spikes in his bulky clothes and got him settled in. James got ready as daylight started to break.
Nothing appeared that morning except that the cold worked it’s way in to him until he sat there thinking he was going to freeze to death before anyone came to get him. Another cold, freezing, wasted day and no deer. Funny how things rapidly change between one heartbeat and the next while deer-hunting.
A sound, running feet, breaking limbs, and the gigantic buck leaped out of the brush into the narrow lane that James was in. There it stood right in front of him. James had never seen or been this close to a buck in his whole life that looked like this massive thing.
James instantly came alive and turned to get in position to shoot.
James tried to raise his gun to his shoulder to shoot off-hand but suddenly realized he had so many clothes on that he could not get the rifle up to his shoulder. He tried again, but he was too bulky and his frozen body would not respond correctly. He got the gun across his chest but then found the scope not adjusted to his eye at that distance. He kept trying to figure a way to fire as his body screamed "shoot, shoot, shoot", but the deer suddenly decided that Fargo might be a better place to be hanging around and with one mighty bound, the huge buck was gone! James was one unhappy and frustrated little boy for a long time.
The lesson: if there had been a gun rest in the stand, he would still be celebrating.
Here is a pic of a really nice deer he took at about that age.
14 comments:
As a vegan, I am horrified to see the stuff you are posting. Stop killing and eating animals!
(in fairness, I'm really only a part-time vegan - usually during sleeping hours.)
I am sure there are lots of other lessons to be learned in the story, too. I am just not deep or introspective enough to find them so I will go with yours!
I'm a lesbian, but you don't hear me complaining.
There's nothing like the smell of blood in the morning, it smells like victory.
Rex, I thoght this was a hunting site, not a GLBT hunting site. Not to pass judgement or anything. But it would be kind of strange early in the morning to hear, Do I look alright in this camo?, or Do these hunting boots match my coveralls.
Mr. Jones, you obviously have too much time on your hands. Would you like me to post the video that I have been saving about you?
As an outdoorsman, I think James may have to be the toughest of the bunch. Anyboby that had to shoot a grizz on the way to the woodpile probably no longer needs a gunrest.
Do your worst Count Mondego
Cute story. You guys had more misadventures hunting when you were young. It's almost like you all knew there'd be a blog that needed stories someday.
A sad, but common story. The choices are A. Be warm enough to survive but too bundled to be able to shoot a deer, or B. Be able to shoot a deer but be frozen to death....tough choice.
Wait, how cold are we talking here? This isn't some Southerners level of "cold" like 40 degrees Fahrenheit, is it? We're talking real, North wind, tongue-freezes-to-metal-cold, right?
Rex,
Guess your ready for the rebs this weekend,know I am. Myself and the boys will be heading over to your old Frat brother Jerry Gowens house for a cookout and to watch the Rebs beat Tiger High.Then off to Abbeville to do some work on the tractor and around the cabin for the rest of the weekend. Will be having a cookout on Sunday would really be nice if you and the family could make it up to your old stompping grounds. I remember those days of climbing up those cotton spindles,slipped one time comming down and my sweatshirt caught one of the spindles and I sat their dangling and Dad just shook his head and ended up climbing up to retrieve me.
Davin
P.S Matt Parham said to tell all of ya'll hello.
"Funny how things rapidly change between one heartbeat and the next while deer-hunting."
I thought this was the greatest line in the story, and so true.
But then I read that you are a lesbian!!! I gotta' stop reading during lunch or I will never get my screen or nasal passages clean again.
I am neither G/L or vegan, but I would like the "keepers of the knowledge" to give me info on the Thacker MTn piece as I am amassing stories, info about this interesting part of n ms.
TCBflash
would like to help, send an email or let me know your blog site.
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